Tutoring Sessions
by Does Not Exist Any Longer
Summary: In a stroke of insanity, Merlin's academic advisor suggests he take an interdisciplinary sports seminar at CM University. For the first time in his life, Merlin needs a tutor, and Arthur Pendragon is the last person he wants to ask for help.


This was one of those times when Merlin wished his Uncle Gaius didn't work at the college he was currently attending.

True his uncle's position at Carnegie Mellon was the reason he'd been able to afford such a high-caliber school on his mother's income, but it also meant he had to live on-campus in Gaius's apartment with both his uncle and his mom. A situation that was not ideal when you had to invite people over (particularly people who could make the next four years of your life a living hell).

Merlin ran his fingers through his towel dried hair, as he rummaged through his closet for something clean…

…or at least clean-smelling.

"Merlin! " Hunith called from the kitchen.

"Would you like me to put out some snacks out for when your friend comes over?"

Merlin cringed. He knew his mom meant well, but if she kept this up he'd never be able to show his face around campus after this.

He held up a dark, green button-up to the mirror before quickly discarding it.

Too formal he decided.

Merlin had always been the best in his class. He'd graduated valedictorian from North Ealdor High, and intended to major in cognitive science at Carnegie Mellon.

Usually he was the one doing the tutoring, not the other way around.

He blamed Mr. Kilgara: his academic advisor.

Inspired by an article in the New York Times, Mr. Kilgara had decided that his students needed to branch out from their narrow academic fields, and had suggested that Merlin sign up for an interdisciplinary sports seminar.

Sports!

Honestly, anything else he could have handled. Architecture, Old English, even Interpretive Dance (his clumsiness be damned), but Sports!

If this was some sort of sick joke, Merlin certainly wasn't laughing. Nor had he been laughing when Kilgara had taken the liberty of signing Merlin up for tutoring sessions with his professor's teaching assistant, Arthur Pendragon.

Merlin gave up on the contents of his closet, and began to inspect the few articles of clothing lying on the floor. Was his _MUSE_ T-shirt too casual?

Pendragon was the last person Merlin wanted to ask for help. He was a year above Merlin, son of the University Dean, and was under the impression that everyone should bow down at his feet.

In Merlin's opinion, he was a prat.

He'd wanted to meet somewhere other than Gaius' apartment, but with mid-terms approaching; all the study-rooms on campus had been booked for weeks in advance, and apparently his royal highness didn't deem Merlin worthy enough to step foot in Arthur's dorm room.

Then again, maybe it was better for Merlin if he didn't have to deal with the stupid soccer studs that tended to hang around Arthur's dorm.

"Merlin, you left your laundry in the dryer again! Your boxers are all wrinkly." Hunith shouted.

Scratch that. Stupid soccer studs were nothing compared to social-status murdering mothers.

"Mom!"

Hunith hung her head in the door expectantly.

Merlin groaned. "Please just stay out of the way when Arthur gets here."

"You sure you don't want me to make some lemonade or something?"

"Mom!"

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry sweetie; it's just that this is the first time you've invited a friend over since we moved here. I'm happy for you. After what happened with Will…"

Merlin tried to gently shove his mom out the door.

"He's not a friend; he's just helping me with my course work."

"I just worry about you sometimes Merlin."

"I'm fine Mom."

"Just remember, this is a big city, people are more open here."

"Mom…"

"I'm going, I'm going!"

Merlin rolled his eyes, and went back to searching for something to wear. Maybe he'd just go with his plain black shirt. That seemed safe enough.

He strode over to his desk, and picked up the shirt from on top his computer monitor.

Although he didn't like admitting it, Hunith was right. Merlin had spent nearly an entire semester at Carnegie Mellon, and he had yet to make any real friends. There was Gwen and Morgana (who were in his study-group for Film and Society) but they never did anything together that wasn't school related.

It wasn't that people didn't try getting close to Merlin… more like he wouldn't let them.

Unconsciously, Merlin's fingers reached for the pendant lying next to his computer screen; a small copper disk hung from a leather chord.

Will had given it to him the summer his father died. It was the Gaelic symbol for brotherhood.

They'd only been ten years old that summer. Will had often told Merlin, he wasn't sure if he'd have made it through the year without him.

Merlin knew that it was strange for him to hold on to the pendant after what had transpired between them, but Merlin couldn't bear to let it go.

He ran his thumb over small metal plate.

Maybe if he'd done things differently they'd still be…

A knock on the door sent Merlin spinning around, overturning his desk's chair in the process, and sending the pendant spinning to the floor.

He looked up to see none other that Arthur Pendragon standing in his doorway, his mouth curled up in amusement. The blonde was wearing a long-sleeved, grey, soccer jersey over a pair of cargo pants; his finely tuned muscles, just visible under the light fabric.

Merlin gawked, "You…you're early" he sputtered.

"Not all of us can have your talent of consistently arriving ten minutes late to everything, Merlin."

"Huh?"

"Taking attendance is part of my job as Professor Sigan's TA." replied Arthur, matter of factly. That obnoxious grin still plastered on his face.

"You time me?"

"Don't flatter yourself Merlin; any idiot would notice your chronic lateness."

Arthur leaned against the doorway, staring at Merlin, as if he was privy to some joke Merlin was not aware of.

"Well…" he drawled.

"Well what!" said Merlin, growing terse.

"May I come in?" Arthur jibed.

In mock servitude, Merlin bent forward, sweeping his arms out in a bow. As his left arm passed before his eyes, he froze. His black shirt was still bunched in his hand. He'd been so distracted by Will's pendant that he'd forgotten to put it on. Merlin's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Well that explained the stupid smirk on Arthur's face.

Flustered, Merlin quickly unfurled his shirt and tried to cram it over his head.

Merlin managed to get his head half-way through one of the arm-holes before realizing he had it on wrong. He imagined that Arthur must be rolling on the floor with laughter by now.

The fabric strained against him. Finally, with a triumphant squeal, Merlin's head popped through the right opening, his hair standing on end from the static electricity. Quickly Merlin looked in the mirror to check that the shirt wasn't on backwards…

He screamed!

If Merlin's mad-scientist hairdo wasn't enough of a shock, the reflected image of Hunith standing in the doorway with a zucchini and a knife large enough to send Freddy Krueger running, certainly was.

"MOM!" yelled Merlin, his heart racing.

Hunith smiled warmly, waving the knife about innocently" I just wanted to let you boys know that I'm making some zucchini bread if you'd like some"

At this point, it would be a miracle if the steadily increasing blush on Merlin's cheeks ever faded.

"I don't think Arthur would want…" murmured Merlin, wishing he could go back and hide under his shirt.

Arthur interrupted him.

"Thank you Mrs. Emrys, that's very considerate of you. Merlin and I would love some if it's not too much trouble."

_Show off_, thought Merlin.

Hunith however was clearly impressed.

"Not at all! I'll bring some up as soon as it's cooled off!"

A few hours later Merlin and Arthur were sprawled on the carpet with their textbooks open, and warm slices of Huniths' zucchini bread stuffed in their mouths.

"Mph I shtill dunngeht hw Bshbll cn pshhbly be dish cmplshx "

"Would it kill you to swallow _Mer_lin?"

Arthur was met with an icy blue glare.

"I said: I still don't get how Baseball can possibly be this complex. You throw the ball, you hit the ball, you catch the ball; it's all a bit 'Neanderthal' if you ask me."

Arthur massaged his forehead, his eyes winced shut.

"Honestly Merlin, you're hopeless."

"This sport is hopeless."

"While baseball can be summed up simply, as you so bluntly put it, there are numerous aspects that can affect the outcome of a game which require a level of precision rarely found in other sports."

Merlin scoffed.

"Such as?" he asked sarcastically.

Such as the unique symmetry of the field, the bend of a pitched curveball, the timing and force of a swing, the collision between ball and bat, the angle and distance of a projected ball."

Merlin stared.

"Practically every aspect of baseball can be isolated and discussed as examples of basic physical phenomena. Furthermore, there is no other American sport that relies as heavily on mathematical statistics and probabilities as baseball. Player's abilities are described almost solely in terms of averages and percentages, and even those numbers are further used by coaches and players in calculating probabilities used to plan strategies."

Arthur stopped for breath.

He searched Merlin's eyes for some sign that any of that had sunk in.

Merlin met the prince's stare with a defiant one of his own.

"Has anyone ever told you you're a prat?" asked Merlin begrudgingly.

Arthur barked out a laugh, "Is that you're way of admitting I'm right?"

Merlin shrugged and grabbed another piece of bread. He hoped that Arthur's ego hadn't noticed the small smile tugging at the corners of Merlin's frown.

Hunith pressed her ear against the door, the muffled sound of her son's laughter seeping through the grains of wood. It'd been a long time since she'd heard her son laugh like that.

Hunith had always known Merlin was special. Never in her life had she thought there was something wrong or perverted with her son, but there were those who had disagreed, and left their life because of it (Merlin's father included).

No, there was nothing wrong with Merlin. However, North Ealdor was a small town, filled with carbon copy citizens of a 1950's moral mold; and they had not been so understanding.

Merlin, her sweet selfless Merlin, hadn't let her know when the hazing started.

He hadn't wanted to worry her. Merlin had always believed the best of people, and was convinced that their taunts would fade in time. No need to worry Hunith.

It wasn't till he'd come home with bruises, that she'd reluctantly been told something was wrong.

Even then, Merlin hadn't seemed upset. Disappointed maybe, but not upset.

But that was before Will.

Merlin still wouldn't talk about what happened, but from what Hunith had pieced together, she believed it all started with a couple of wise-ass kids from the wrestling team who decided it would be funny to mess with the school queer.

The plan was to single him out, flirt with him…made a move….

Thinking he'd finally found someone to connect with, Merlin followed willingly.

As far as Hunith knew that had been Merlin's first kiss; a false moment cut short by the wrestling team's fists.

Merlin had sought refuge at Will's house. But word travels fast in small towns, and Will had heard about everything. He couldn't pretend he was blind any longer.

Hunith didn't blame Will. She blamed his ignorant upbringing maybe, but not him directly. Even so, she knew she'd never be able to forgive him. Forgiveness had become an impossibility when she'd found her son unconscious on the bathroom floor, his porcelain face almost transparent with fever.

No matter what you're upbringing says, it doesn't excuse telling your best friend of 11 years that if he can't change, he's better off dead.

It had taken a lot to bring Merlin back from that. He was strong, but he was stubborn, and he was afraid to open up. He was afraid of burdening others with his pain; afraid of trusting them enough to let them in.

Hunith knew that Merlin would be alright eventually. He just needed a hand. Maybe Arthur would be that hand, and maybe he wouldn't. But somehow Hunith had the feeling, that this tutoring session, was a step in the right direction.

* * *

><p><em>This story was inspired by FredLyonsTheGreat My Life Is Average Challenge, where I was given the MLIA post "Today I looked in the mirror. And screamed. My mom was standing behind me with a knife and a zucchini." and had to write a story for Merlin around that idea. <em>

_Hope you enjoyed it, and please leave a comment in the review section if you have the time._

_Criticism of any kind is a writer's best friend, only a blank paper with no idea how to fill it is the enemy._

_Love, Charlie_

_:D_


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